


Pulling An All Nighter

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [3]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, F/M, Late at Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm and Sam are working late at Number Ten.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling An All Nighter

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before Malcolm and Sam are an item.....the relationship is one of employer and employee, but their tiredness has other ideas!!

PULLING AN ALL NIGHTER.

 

A hum of traffic from Whitehall was all Malcolm could hear.  
Distant car horns, a wailing siren, the steady thrum of the beating heart that was London.  
Never ceasing, never sleeping.  
Removed somehow from that reality, behind the heavy iron gates, and the turnstile where the check point was constantly manned by armed Special Branch officers, the street outside his window like a movie set, Downing Street was a world apart.  
He remembered being bought there as a boy, all the way from Glasgow.  
You could walk down the street then, right passed the door. Then out at the other end, into St James's Park.  
Not anymore.  
Times had changed.

Leaning back in his chair, he bought his hands up behind his head, rubbing his tense neck with his own fingers.  
The glow of the desk lamp, the only light.  
Another day of hurricanes, another political spillage that needed mopping up.  
He gave a cavernous yawn.  
The place was practically deserted now.  
Slowly winding down as the day came to an end.  
Eleven, the chimes from the pendulum clock on the wall in the hallway told him.  
Looking down at the mass of unfinished work, still waiting to be dealt with, he sighed.  
He'd be here all night.....again.  
A knock jarred him out of his torpor.  
Sam's head peeped in.  
"Fuck! Sam! Scared the crap out of me! Why are you still here?"  
"I had all those emails to get out, needed them to be circulating and percolating! It couldn't wait till the morning. Besides, the wording was a little 'colourful'. I had to do a bit of editing."  
"That's my fault, sorry." He yawned again, stretching himself languidly.  
"I'm done now though." She slipped into his office and crossed to the desk, standing now, leaning against it slightly, regarding him with a look of pity.  
"Is this lot still in your 'to do' pile?" She gestured at his battlefield of a desk top.  
He nodded.  
"Want some help? If we both do it, it'll take half the time!"  
"That's okay Sam, you away to your bed, I've kept you long enough already."  
He rubbed his tired eyes, pinching the top of his nose between his fingers, pushing his glasses up and out of the way.  
"Malcolm.......it'll take an hour, maybe two, tops......"  
She moved around to his side of the desk, and reached for the heap of files.  
"Fuck it all Sam? Do you ever ask yourself 'what's the fucking point?' " he asked, wistfully.  
"All the time! But hey! That's life.....and life's a bitch...."  
"And then you marry one! That's what my Da used to say......mind you, he was a bastard, so what did he know?"  
"I was going to say, 'and then you die', which was what MY dad used to say......but, there you go."  
They shared a smile, his rapidly fading as he looked quickly away.  
He made a point of rising, walking around and towards the pantry.....  
"I'm hungry, but I don't know what to eat.......I can't fucking be bothered."  
"How about takeout?......I can go down to the gate and fetch it."  
"Good shout! What do you fancy?"  
"Anything, I'm starving.......pizza, Chinese .......not fussed." 

Half an hour later, they were seated, shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg on the couch that sat against the wall at the back of the room, behind his desk.  
The couch he'd ordered to be placed there, so that he had somewhere to lay down, when they copped an all nighter.  
Leaning forwards, together, the open Domino's boxes on the floor in front of them, along with all the papers and files.  
Laptop balanced on his knees, a triangle of pepperoni pizza making its way precariously towards his mouth.......  
.......Jacket off and tossed aside, tie loosened, top button undone, sleeves rolled up.  
As the last mouthful disappeared Sam handed him a napkin to wipe his fingers, automatically, without a conscious thought, not even looking towards him.  
Working in harmony, a team, a well oiled machine.  
She going through each document, extracting the relevant, discarding the dross, passing it on to him.  
Methodical, efficient, perfectly synchronised.  
"Wipe your chin as well Malcolm, you've got tomato sauce on it." She remarked, still without looking at him.  
He did so, but some still remained.  
"Here. Let me."  
Wetting the corner of the serviette from her water glass, she took his chin firmly in her hand and scrubbed at the offending orangey mark.  
He caught her gaze momentarily, and for a second, she hesitated, the paper tissue poised against his face.  
The moment passed, she blushed.  
"There. You'll do." She said hurriedly.  
Malcolm moved away, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Where's the crime figures file? It's not here."  
"It's there somewhere......probably under the takeaway box!"  
She scrabbled on the floor, on her knees at his feet, turfing through the detritus.  
He watched, transfixed, as her hair fell forwards over her face, and she moved her hand to flick it back out of the way.  
Shoes off, in her stockinged feet, as she shuffled through the papers, hunting for the one she wanted.  
Malcolm swallowed thickly.  
"AH HA! Here it is!" Face triumphant, beaming.  
Turning towards him, waving the relevant document.  
Malcolm's thoughts wandered.....  
'Fuck, but she was so attractive when she smiled like that......stop it Malcolm, she's your bloody PA for Christ's sake.'  
He took the file from her and made a show of opening and flicking through it, covering his inner embarrassment.  
'Stupid fucker Tucker.  
Stop fucking kidding yourself, she wouldn't be interested in an old git like you anyway.  
Get over yourself, you're a dead husk, and she's young and beautiful, and was, no doubt, beating them off with a stick.'  
He huffed audibly. 

Time ticked by.  
He ached. Bone tired.  
Malcolm pushed himself back into the sofa, laptop still on his knees.  
Head resting back.  
'Just need to close my eyes for a moment' .......head buzzing with weariness.  
Eyes on stalks. Temples throbbing.  
How many minutes passed he wasn't sure......was it minutes? Hours?  
He had to fight to raise his eyelids, so so heavy.  
He'd fallen asleep, for how long?  
A slow awareness hit him.  
Crept up upon him......sending a frisson of both thrill and fear throughout his body.

She was curled against his chest. 

They were seated still, side by side, but she'd leaned over, her head resting there, warm and heavy against the fabric of his shirt.  
Worse......or better, depending on how he tried to view it, his arm was comfortably around her shoulder, holding her in place.  
Hand resting down her arm, her breathing quiet and even, he could smell her hair, feel its silkiness.  
As he reclined there, slowly coming back to wakefulness and the uncomfortable....(and yet, oh so pleasant).....ness of the situation, she stirred within his embrace.  
Nuzzling closer, bringing her hand to rest against him, just at stomach level, fingers stroking gently, letting out a little contented sigh, as she did so. Tucking her knees up, so that they rested partly atop his thighs.  
Holy Shit! This was not good.  
This went against all the rules which Malcolm insisted upon upholding in the workplace.  
Professional, at all times.  
He was her boss for fucks sake.  
"Sam!" He whispered, gently, removing his own arm from around her.  
Oh, but he really didn't want to disturb her, he could, quite happily, remain there forever, just feeling her near, warm and cozy, blissfully sleeping.  
"Sam! Wake up!"  
"Hmmmm?"  
Her eyes opened, and the full magnitude of her position hit her.  
She sat up hurriedly, flustered. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  
One side of her hair flattened where it rested against him, a slight damp patch on his shirt front, where she'd dribbled.  
She looked in horror at the shirt, then her eyes drifted up to his face.......she was scarlet.  
"Malcolm.........I........"  
He smiled.  
"Think we should call it a night, yeah? Whatever else there is, can wait.....I was going to say, until tomorrow, but it's already tomorrow. "  
"Yes. Of course.....um.......I.....um.......okay. I'll get my bits and pieces together."  
She stood, still staring directly into his face, holding his gaze steadily, unable to tear herself away.  
"I'll text for a car."  
He hastily began tapping his Blackberry, trying to defuse the moment.  
"I......there's no need.....I can...."  
"Nonsense. You're not going home alone at this hour, we'll go together.....I'll drop you off."  
"I......thank you. Thank you Malcolm." She stammered.  
"Least I can do. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let my employee go home by herself at half three in the morning?"  
Sam smiled shyly, and began to hunt for her shoes, one of which was underneath the sofa, behind his legs.  
"My um....my shoe.....is under there." She pointed, still pink with discomfiture.  
He bent and retrieved it, handing it over, with a slight grin.

The phone trilled at that second and broke the spell, which had captured them both in its thrall since waking.  
Malcolm rose, spoke briefly then hung up.  
"Car's here."  
Sam had travelled in to work that day in bright warm sunshine, not dressed for the chill that pervaded the air now, in the early hours of the morning.  
She shivered involuntarily as they stepped outside.  
Before she could even register it, and without ceremony, his woollen overcoat was deftly wrapped around her shoulders, as he opened the car door for her.  
Sam pulled the edges of the coat together across the front of her, it was deliciously warm, and smelled of that wonderful citrusy smell that was essentially Malcolm.  
She breathed in deeply, her eyes fluttering closed, as he settled himself in the back seat beside her, their legs touching.  
"Thanks for helping out, Sam. I appreciate it."  
"It's no bother, really. I'm happy to do it."  
"Well, it's above and beyond, and I'm grateful." His hands rested along his thighs, tense and fidgety.  
Part of her screamed to rest her hand over his.  
She couldn't. Couldn't do it.  
"Take some time tomorrow. You don't need to be in at the crack of dawn.....okay?" He continued, as if he were aware of the turmoil that was presently the inside of her head.  
"I'll be in by eight. You have a meeting at nine." She replied, "I'll pick you up some brekkie on my way in."  
"You don't have to do that Sam.....I can manage."  
She turned to him, and frowned.  
"You don't though, do you? You don't eat.....you'll skip lunch because you've got to be at DoSAC straight after your morning meeting, then there's the Cabinet meeting in the afternoon, before you know it, it's five o clock and you've had nothing but coffee and red bull all day long. It's not healthy."  
"What would I do without you?" He smiled slightly, but his eyes looked sad.  
"Well, starve, probably." She answered, trying to sound annoyed, but not really succeeding.  
The car pulled to a halt. He was out and round to open her door almost before she could collect herself.  
Walking up the path with her, to her front door, she fumbled for her keys and turned the lock.  
Shrugging off his coat, and folding it, she handed it back to him.  
"Thank you for the loan Malcolm." She shuddered, missing the warmth.  
"Better get inside out of the cold.........can't afford for you to be off sick." He chuckled.  
He was already walking away, putting his own arms into the coat, returning to the car.  
"Good night Sam. Sleep tight." He shot over his retreating shoulder.  
For a second she let him go, then on a sudden impulse, she took three rapid steps after him, her hand on his arm. Turning him slightly, she reached up, placed a kiss on his cheek, then turned quickly back and hurried inside.  
"Goodnight Malcolm. Sweet dreams."  
Once inside, door shut behind her, she leaned against it heavily, and blew out her cheeks.  
"Shit! What on earth just happened there, Samantha Cassidy?" She exclaimed aloud to herself.  
Malcolm, settled in the back seat once more, as the car pulled away, was enveloped by the heady waft of her perfume on his coat and on his shirt.  
"Fucking hell." He muttered to himself, what was he supposed to do about that? " I'm toast. I'm fucking toast."


End file.
